Story Behind The Song
This song is about the cultural manipulation of spiritual, political and social icons and values for more venal considerations.
Song Length |
4:55 |
Genre |
Pop - Rock, Electronic - House |
Tempo |
Medium (111 - 130) |
Lead Vocal |
Male Vocal |
Language |
English |
Era |
2000 and later |
Lyrics
He was kicking up dust
At the end of the street
Selling hot prayers
For the damned and the weak
You could see his red hands
In the winter freeze
He'd jump into the river
So desperate he pleads and pleads
All the sleeping beauties
All the snow whites
All the Castros, the Gandhis
The Jesus Christs
All the creeds, ideologies
The warped rites
All the champions
The mystics and the merchandise
There were scenes and deals
And semantic wars
And a new generation
Of high-born whores
I can't prove I'm right
But you can't prove me wrong
While you're taking care of business
I'm Just trying to get along
I heard the bad man ballads
Shaking down the black arts
And smiling candidates
Who'd drive a stake through your heart
There was plunder in those towers
Of their glass citadels
Where they gaze through walls of windows
As they build a new hell; well
All the sleeping beauties Baby be wise
All the snow whites Remain in light
All the Castros, the Gandhis Don't let those dark knights
The Jesus Christs Take down your rights
All the creeds, ideologies
The warped rites
All the champions
The mystics and the merchandise
He said: I've spoke my mind
And I've said my peace
And I watched as my friends
Became strangers to me
The future's close now
Can't you feel the chains?
They'll set light to the world
And let the media fan the flames
He took his time
Had to think things through
He had a bunch of dead dreams
A name no-one knew
He'd had his fill of wrecked bars
That smelled like piss
Sleeping in backs of cars
On the edge of his wits
Shit...
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